Page 31 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

“That is true,” I agreed, with no need to rely on my acting skills.

Helena looked as though she had bitten into a lemon. Then her gaze became cunning.

“How fortunate that you have such a good friend to ease your way into society. I believe that you and Lord Wynter are well acquainted,” she said, gesturing towards Nicholas, who stood a little apart from the rest of the group with a red-headed man.

Her voice was full of implications; but clearly Helena did not know Stefan as well as Lord Wynter did. The idea of a prior romantic connection between Nicholas and me seemed more likely to make me of interest to Stefan, not less. I noticed a small frown furrow Stefan’s brow. He was not pleased.

Nicholas made his way leisurely to my side.

He stood close enough beside me that the sleeve of his jacket brushed, feather-light, across my bare arm.

“Oh, Serena and I are old friends,” he said, then he placed his hand at the small of my back. “Come, let me introduce you to everyone.”

He moved me away from Helena and Stefan, and I heard Helena begin to ask the prince bright questions about his grandmother.

I took the opportunity to look around the room. Helena had changed the wallpaper and the furniture and it was clear no expense had been spared. The effect was luxurious, decadent, and I noticed that the emerald-and-gold colour scheme complemented Helena’s raven-wing hair and green eyes.

“This is Colonel Thacker and Lord Bell,” Nicholas said, as we approached two older gentlemen. “Gentlemen, may I present Miss Fox?”

“Charmed, my dear.” The colonel bowed over my hand. He was a portly man in military dress, with a bristling grey moustache, red cheeks and a benevolent gleam in his eye.

Lord Bell was almost his precise opposite, tall and spindly with an extremely uninterested expression. His eyes flickered over me, lingering for a moment on the jewels, and then he gestured to a young man who made his way towards us.

“Miss Fox, may I present my younger son, Lord Percy?”

The young man was about the same age as me, with a round face and an air of intense shyness.

“H-hello,” he managed.

I gave him my most dazzling smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I replied.

Nicholas then steered me over to the cluster of deep green velvet seats. “Of course, you already know my grandmother,” he said. “And this is Lady Bell.” He gestured to the mousy woman in the worn dress, who inclined her head. “And her daughter, Lady Sophia.”

Sophia was closer in appearance to her brother than either of her parents. She had a sweet face framed by light brown ringlets. Like her mother’s I could see that her dress had been cleverly mended and altered on more than one occasion. She smiled tentatively, and I did the same.

My cheeks were starting to hurt. Unlike Iris Grey, Serena Fox was happy and charming. I was quite out of practice. All this smiling was a test in itself.

Suddenly, Helena was at my shoulder. “And you must allow me to introduce my daughters from my first marriage to Baron Weston. This is my eldest, Agatha, and my younger daughter, Cassandra.”

I lifted my gaze to look at my stepsisters. So far it didn’t seem that Helena had recognized me, though I had spent more time in the nursery with her daughters, and we were closer in age. Would they see through my disguise?

I had seen Agatha already, but this was our first proper meeting. Her beauty was marred slightly by the sullen mask that descended when she looked at me.

Cassie, I remembered as a quiet, watchful little girl; now she looked at me with a direct and curious gaze. Her eyes were brown, her hair a glossy chestnut, and her jaw had a determined set to it. She was the same age as me, and she wore an air of confidence that owed absolutely nothing to her gown, which was well made but plain, unadorned and unstylish in a drab lilac.

I scanned their faces and saw no hint of recognition. I didn’t think I would have recognized them had we passed in the street, let alone if they were introduced under different names. I supposed that the difference between eleven and eighteen was a significant one.

“Agatha will be able to share some advice about your come out,” Helena murmured confidingly. “Her own was quite the success. Several most eligible offers for her hand over the last two years, you know.” She laid her hand on my arm. I felt the zing of her touch like a bee sting. “But she hasn’t accepted any yet. My daughter may shoot for the moon, after all.”

I heard the warning in her chatty tone and followed her gaze as it rested pointedly on Stefan for a moment. Then she returned her attention to her other daughter.

“And Cassandra is,” Helena hesitated, “here as well,” she finished brightly.

I had the impression that it took everything in Cassie not to roll her eyes at that, and I repressed a smile.

“Miss Weston,” I said, bobbing a curtsey to Agatha. “Miss Cassandra.”

“I prefer to be called Cassie,” she said. Her voice was deep and pleasant, and her eyes remained fixed keenly on mine.